Perks of the Job
by Xrai
Summary: When Torchwood One needs some critical information from Jack Harkness' mind, extractor Ianto Jones is called in. AU. Crossover-ish with Inception. Jack/Ianto


**Title:** Perks of the Job  
**Rating:** R  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s):** Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Lisa Hallet, OCs; Jack/Ianto, Ianto/Lisa (unrequited)  
**Summary:** When Torchwood One needs some critical information from Jack Harkness' mind, extractor Ianto Jones is called in. Written for redisourcolor over on LiveJournal for Challenge #8: Crossovers. Prompts are _"Oh, great. Another one?"_ and the words _peaches_, _green_ and _instant_. Crossover with Christopher Nolan's Inception.  
**Warnings:** AU. Swearing. Implied sex. And SPOILERS for Inception, regarding the concept of dream extraction (no plot spoilers).  
**Disclaimer:** Torchwood and all characters belong to RTD and BBC. (This story does have original characters of my own creation).  
**A/N:** CROSSOVER-ish with _Inception_. I watched Inception two weeks ago, so my mind is a bit fuzzy on the details. Wikipedia and the official Inception websites helped but there may be discrepancies with Inception canon.

* * *

"And you'll find him here."

"This is Harkness. Of course we'll find him here."

Lisa had to push through the throng of dancing, sweating bodies to keep up with Ianto. It unnerved her, because if Harkness ever gained awareness of their intrusion, all these people would rip them both apart before either of them could say "nightmare".

But Ianto of course had just laughed it off when she'd voiced out her worries and disappeared into the crowd. She hated it when he did that, arrogant bastard.

While Lisa had to push and squeeze her way past people, Ianto just seemed to slip through them like a shade. She felt terribly out of place, but he seemed to belong there, even in his three-piece suit.

A hand grabbed hers and pulled her through a gap between two dancers; they glared at her and for a moment she held her breath, waiting– and they returned their attentions to each other and continued to dance.

"You okay?" asked Ianto. He swayed in time with the music, his hand still holding on to hers.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Have you found him yet?"

Ianto slipped his arms around her waist and leaned close. "Behind you," he murmured and Lisa felt a shiver travel down her spine that had nothing to do with nerves.

She suppressed another shiver and turned around, Ianto's hand still on her waist. Jack Harkness was at the bar, talking– no, _flirting_ with the bartender. Not surprising really, from what she'd heard of him. The bartender looked like was going to rip of his clothes and shag him then and there at any moment.

They continued to dance while observing their target. It was hard, because Lisa found herself distracted by Ianto's continuous bumping of his hips against hers. It both aroused and unnerved her and she hoped he couldn't feel her heart pounding –were there heartbeats in dreams?– against his chest.

It was easy to get lost in the rhythm of the dance and the beat of the music until a hand curled around Ianto's waist. It was Harkness, damnit.

She could barely hear his "May I?" and then Ianto had already removed his hands from her hips and wound them around the American's. Stupid Lisa, she scolded herself. All that letting loose, those amazing hips swaying against hers in the best suit he had, that sheer aura of sex he was exuding; it hadn't been for her benefit, but all for Harkness'. Goddamn bastard.

It was hot watching them dance though, so close there wasn't an inch of air between them, the way their clothed limbs slipped over each other even more erotic to look at than had they been naked. But then they started kissing; bruising tongue-tangling, arm-grabbing, hip-grinding kisses and Lisa had to look away.

She swayed to music, sometimes alone, sometimes with a random stranger from the crowd, doing her best not look in the direction of her partner and her target until someone tapped her on her shoulder.

Once again her heart leapt to her throat, jangling with nerves until she made out Ianto's face in the strobing lights. He was grinning, lips wet and red and pupils blown with Jack Harkness was hanging on to his other hand, tugging impatiently.

Ianto winked at her. "Got him," she heard him say and the rest of his words were drowned by the music. She could read them on his lips though: "Wait here."

Wait here. As usual, while Ianto got dream-laid, got the codes and got a pat on the head and a raise from Hartman. Fucking bastard.

* * *

"Oh, great. Another one?" Simone Matthews clicked open the message from Yvonne Hartman, demanding for the second time in five minutes to know the progress of the extraction. "The Bitch wants an update," she informed her colleague.

Phillip Johnson grinned. "Jones has him," he announced.

Simone looked up from her laptop. "How do you know?"

He pointed at the sleeping man's groin. An erection was visibly tenting the tight fabric of his jeans.

The woman blushed a little. "And?"

"He's sexing Harkness. That's how Jones works. Just one dream layer, but he goes right in. Picks up the target, seduces him here, knocks him out, seduces him there and he's putty in his hands. Lets him in anywhere, tells him anything."

"And that works?" She raised a sceptical eyebrow.

Phillip shrugged. "Most of the time. Certainly worked on Harkness here." He nodded at the half-clothed man in deep sleep on the bed across from them. "If it doesn't we just Retcon the target, sedate them again and get someone else to do it."

"What about her?" Simone directed his attention from Harkness to Lisa Hallet, who lay on the floor next to Ianto.

"Rookie. Yvonne wants Ianto to show her the ropes."

"I'll bet he'll show her more than that," the woman muttered, then turned back to her laptop to inform the Director of their progress.

* * *

Lisa was sipping at her drink, a strange green concoction that tasted of peaches when Ianto seemingly materialised on the barstool next to hers. For someone who had just been thoroughly shagged (this was just an assumption, but considering Harkness' reputation, she was pretty sure it wasn't a far-fetched one), he looked immaculate, if a little distracted.

"Have you got it all?" she asked him urgently and he nodded, even as he grabbed her half-finished drink and downed it in one gulp.

"God, that's horrible." He made a face and drummed his fingers against the bars wooden countertop. "How much longer?"

"You cut it close, the kick comes in one minute twenty-seven seconds."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that, it took a while."

"But you have the codes?"

"Yes, goddammit I have the codes. All of them."

"Okay." She smoothed her hands nervously across her dress. "That's good. So he's–?"

"Sleeping. Oh, you mean…?" A slow, almost predatory smile spread across Ianto's lips. He looked like a cat who'd gotten the cream and had just spotted another plateful. "Great. Brilliant. Very creative ideas but I had to say no to them. No time. Maybe when–"

Lisa cut him off with a sharp gesture. Over the techno beat of the club music, she could hear the soft strains of Elaine Paige's 'Memory'.

"Right," murmured Ianto. "Back we go to–"

* * *

Lisa opened her eyes and blinked away the vestiges of the dream. Gone was the club, the music, the people, all in an instant. Instead she found herself on a mattress in a small, musty room.

Next to her Ianto was getting to his feet, rubbing his eyes and smearing the kohl that he'd put around them all over his face. He looked down at his blackened hands and groaned.

Over on the bed, Philip checked Harkness' vitals and made sure he was still asleep.

The door opened and Simone came in with the laptop which she handed over to Ianto. "Yvonne wants the codes. And you are to report to her first thing tomorrow morning."

"Right." Ianto tapped in the sequence of codes he'd stolen from Harkness' memory then returned the laptop.

Taking it, she turned to Lisa. "Yvonne will want to debrief you as soon as you get back."

Lisa gaped. "It's two in the bloody morning."

Her colleague shrugged. "Tell _her_ that."

"Oh fine, damnit."

"Is there a washroom in this place?" Ianto cut in.

Simone handed him a packet of wipes. "Nope."

He looked at the packet, sighed and pulled one out to wipe at the black stains on his cheek.

Philip joined them and gestured at the door. "Okay, since we've got what we came for we'd better leave. Harkness will be reviving soon, and we don't want to be around when he does."

"Except me."

"Huh?"

Ianto tossed the wipe into a nearby bin. The smears were gone but in the tight shirt and jeans he still looked positively edible. He shrugged. "Job perks. And I promised myse–"

"Okay, okay, we don't want to know," said Philip hurriedly. "Ladies, lets go."

Just before the door swung shut, Lisa caught a glimpse of Ianto's smirk as slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

* * *

Oh god, had he blacked out? Vague memories of a bar swam to the forefront of his mind, as did a face… Had he picked someone up at a bar?

As he returned to consciousness Jack pieced back his memory, bit by bit. He'd been out on the pull, met this guy. They'd danced, shared a few drinks and then he'd followed the man back to… here. Wherever here was. And then he'd been given the best blowjob in a very long time… yeah, he must have blacked out after that. Hopefully the kid had stuck around, he could do with another.

"Hey."

He blinked and his vision focused on the face hovering above his own.

"Hey," he said back.

The face split into a grin. "You were out for quite a bit. I'm good, I say so myself, but I haven't had guys faint on me for a while. You all right, sir?"

Oh god, those vowels. "Say that again."

"What, 'sir'?"

"Mmm, yeah." He sat up and took in the young man. Still fully dressed, but he could see hints of an amazing body under those clothes. Clearly Welsh, pale with dark hair. His eyes were a clear blue and his nose had a cute upturn to it.

"Like what you see?" The boy knelt on the bed and his shirt fell open. Jack fought the urge to lick his lips.

"Yeah. Strip."

The shirt slid off those lean, limber arms. "Yes, sir."**  
**


End file.
